


the diving game

by 8The_Great_Perhaps8



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Emetophobia, Gen, scientists say no, will i ever write something about rose that doesnt involve the horrorterrors??????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8The_Great_Perhaps8/pseuds/8The_Great_Perhaps8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows them when she is six, seven, fourteen, fifteen, and she even has the vague recollection of knowing them before then as one recalls the odd relative from family gatherings who gives out sticky hard candies.<br/>She has always known of the wicked circle, is the point, and the wicked circle has had its plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the diving game

  
Her eyes are closed now, and she rests. The dark ones tickle through her mind, and make sure that their Seer, their servant, their precious, precocious, darling child is still reverent to her dark masters, still obedient, because they cannot lose their Seer, they who they raised so specifically for this purpose, from her mother’s womb and with the tickling fingers making delicate work of the careful little thoughts she has. Their Seer rests, yes, and when she awakens she will finally be the fully realized Seer for her dark masters, and then it shall begin. Then shall begin the end of the ant-like beasts which call themselves humans and shall drive all to madness.

_The colors of her eyes were the color of insanity_  


When she was six years old, her mother took her to the beach in California, and she swam deep, deep, deep, deep, playing her diving game, until she could hardly see the light from the sun and she thought she was going to walk on the ocean floor, and from the depths reached the first tendril. She reached out her hand towards it, and she allowed it to wrap around her wrist. It tugged her forward, gently at first and then harder and harder, until her eyes burned with salt and her lungs wept for oxygen and she let go. They followed her, the tentacles did, and when her little head popped back up above the ocean waves, she wore a pure black headband which soon became her crown and her portal to the noble circle of the eldritch abominations.

_The Seer's diving game became more dangerous after the visit to the nameless beach where the nameless thing grabbed onto her._

The Seer’s mother asked her where she had found that pretty little headband she seemed so fond of, and the Seer shrugged. Her mother asked why she doesn’t ever take it off, and the Seer shrugged again. It isn’t important, she said. She just thinks it’s pretty. She’s already addicted to the whispers of the cthulean monstrosities which dwell within the aether of the other. They are a drug, the whispers, they are whispers of power and soothing cries of soporific assurances, and the Seer loves them for how rarely she hears her mother speak in praise. She became addicted to the illusion of love and that is how the Seer became reverent of the endless void of eldritch creature and why they must maintain the illusion.

_Thus begins the next round of the Seer's diving game, where she sees how far she can get into the void and how far away because she does love the beasts, she truly does, but she loves the thrill of danger and fear up her spine when she plays the game._

The Seer makes her first friend when she is eleven years old, and the hold that the horrorterrors have around her mind becomes tenuous. The boy is slight and blonde and wears sunglasses even in the dark and he asks her why she’s so pale. She is startled, for she had not looked at herself in a mirror in months, and the eldritch had wrapped their tendrils ‘round her throat and through her mind until she was but a compendium of flesh and pain and material of the eldritch brood. The boy cares for her, cares for her the way the Seer feels the preternatural monsters who guard her do. The supernatural beasts wrap their tendrils around her more tightly.

_The Seer is losing her diving game._

The Seer is fourteen and the boy has seen her vomit the entrails of the Noble Circle too many times and when he takes off his glasses he can hear the wicked whispers of the eldritch along with the girl. They are friends, thinks the girl, and she allows the eldritch whatever leeway they so desire in keeping their Seer safe. She still so adores the wicked supernatural demons who hold her mind in their mouths and the leviathan creatures which lurk outside her bedroom window to carry her off to the Noble Circle itself. They tighten their grip more and more and she vomits the juvenile urchins of the Eldritch gods onto the bathroom floor and chokes when she tries to eat. She collapses on the ground of the forest when she’s walking home from school more than once and her knight in shining armor saves her from being devoured by the monsters in the forest more than once. 

_She's gotten too deep. It had happened before, and she had nearly drowned, but she knew when she had gotten too deep and the game was over._

The Seer stops breathing on her fifteenth birthday, and she rests just there at the kitchen table where she had ceased. Still, her dark masters wait. Her mother no longer lives with the Seer nor does the knight make any attempt to save the Seer. Her eyes are shut, but she merely rests. The horrorterrors tickle through her mind and keep her rotting body from decaying and so sits the emissary of the dark, the speaker of the hellbeasts. So she sits, and so she remains, amethyst eyes blind to the world and goblin tongue stilled for the first time. There sits a girl who hadn’t been a girl in years. There sits a girl and a Seer and a monster and a fortune-teller and a goddess and the girl who had lived through so many lives. There sits she, and there she remains until she realizes her duty as a Seer.

_Ruby lips above the water,_  
 _Blowing bubbles soft and fine,_  
 _But alas, I was no swimmer,_  
 _So I lost my Clementine._

The Seer sits up, and her amethyst eyes have become obsidian, her goblin tongue is long and forked and her teeth are those of a shark and her mouth is empty and full and endless, except it isn’t because from her mouth is where the horrorterrors begin and end. The Seer rises, buoyed by the tentacles of the noble circle and begins the conquest which the dark masters had been planning since this little blip of a human had appeared in their arms. Their vassal is as obedient and reverent as she had been when she had been a blank slate of naiveté, and she begins to heave as the eldritch force their way through her throat, and this is how it was meant to be.


End file.
